we are surviving

They lay their heads on stones and converse with their tears

They lay their worn-out bodies on cold concrete with their babes sucking nothing from dangling breasts.

Their dim eyes wail,

“We are surviving’’

In dregs, their charcoaled bodies suffer the heat of

the sun as they push trucks and carry wares for a

Widow’s mite

Their natural force abates them

and they sigh in sobs,

“We are surviving’’

The half-naked babes run amidst the hustling and bustling of the filthy market squares with blistered

Knees and watery noses to strain for coins, but their hands are flicked away.

They whimper,

“We are surviving’’.

The weaker bones breathe their last, rot and turn into dungs on mats.

Flies, their companions, hover around them singing dirges,

“We are surviving’’.